


You call that a ship?

by aisling_in_outer_space



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Gen, I have entirely abandoned this because I started my PhD and life is now meaningless, This is the crossover fic that I've wanted all my life., and then the first order trio are with the royal british navy, luke and leia begrudgingly get involved, possible kylux idk, the space ot3 are hanging out with capt jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7725652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aisling_in_outer_space/pseuds/aisling_in_outer_space
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Royal British Navy has never seen anything like this: a blaster, a lightsabre, or anything remotely like Captain Phasma’s silvery armour.  And when it comes to Kylo Ren’s use of the Force?  Nope.  Absolutely not.  What is this witchcraft?  Captain Thomas Heady of the HMS Victory knows that it was the morally just thing to rescue these soldiers who claim to be from the ‘First Order’, but he isn’t quite sure what kind of mess he has fallen into.  Meanwhile, Captain Jack Sparrow is exactly sure that these young pilots nearing his ship are perfectly suited to join in his next adventure.  And then the fun begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You call that a ship?

**Chapter 1**

Rey could taste the salty sand in her mouth before she could sense anything else.

Her fingers dug into the sand that she lied upon, that her face was smashed into, but the sensation was... _cold_. Sand should have been familiar, warm, _dry_. After so many years on Jakku, she had come to understand that there was only one kind of sand, and it was the kind that whipped with the wind to burn your legs. It was the sand that was heated by the sun so that it left blisters when you fell into it.

It wasn't supposed to be cold and wet.

She opened her eyes, blinking blindly into the sun until her vision came back into focus, and what she saw was the last thing that she had imagined. The sand was not built in desert dunes, but it was a beach. She had heard of beaches, had briefly seen them on Maz Kanata's planet, actually. But she had never been so close. Turning to look over her shoulder, she was shocked by the water that surrounded her—waves crashing upon the shore and an endless horizon of water. There was _so much water_. Stars, she had never seen this much before.

Rey looked away from the water for a moment to see lofty palms sprout from the sand and cast shade up ahead. Scrambling from the wet shore, she crawled into the shade, landing hard on her back against the dead palm leaves that covered the sandy ground.

She tried to figure out how she had gotten here. What had she last remembered? _Let's see..._ She had just kicked the shit out of Kylo Ren the day before and had met with General Leia Organa on D'Qar just that morning. Finn had still been sleeping, his wounds healing, and she had been so ready to find Luke. Everything had been in order. Everything had been ready. And then she remembered nothing. Then she was just _here_. On this beach in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by water and bright sunlight and stifling, humid heat.

She sat up, wondering what resources she had. There was a bag still attached to her belt with a small knife and a few trinkets that really weren't of much help. And at least she still had both of her shoes, though they were soggy and weighed a ton. Still, better than nothing.

Standing up, Rey walked back onto the shoreline, letting her eyes scan in each direction for something. Anything. And it was as she glanced off into the distance that she saw something bright orange making its way closer along the sand. Cautiously, she stepped forward, making sure that her knife was tucked firmly in hand.

“Rey?” The orange blob was yelling her name. It was unmistakeable.

Rey stood still for just a moment, her hand held at her brow to shade her face. “Poe?”

Suddenly, both of them were running through the sand until they slammed into one another, both looking a little worse for wear amid the salt spray but thankfully unharmed.

“Rey, thank the stars,” Poe shouted as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

“Where are we?” Rey asked, breaking the hug to look around as though more people would suddenly leap out of the waves to greet her.

“No idea, but Finn's here, too.”

Rey felt her heart sink; Finn shouldn't have been out of the medbay! Not with his injuries still unhealed! “Where?” she demanded, already moving in the direction from where Poe had come.

Poe jogged alongside her, taking both of them into the shade. He was worried, the wrinkles of his forehead deep as he led Rey further into the palms. “Not far up ahead. I got him stable, but this is the last thing he needs.”

Lying by himself on top of a bed of palm debris was Finn, still blissfully asleep but with lips turning pale. Rey rushed beside him, her hands on his chest to feel his heartbeat. After the fight with Kylo Ren, Finn had been incapacitated from the sabre slice against his back. It was a miracle that he had lived through the attack at all, and now his recovery was set into jeopardy.

“We have to find a ship,” Rey said, voice full of determination. “Something. Anything to get him back to a medbay.”

Here, Poe scratched at the back of his head with a grimace. “Well, here's the thing. There _is_ a ship not too far off--”

“--Good, we'll take it.”

“You didn't let me finish. It's not really the sort of ship either of us know how to pilot.”

Rey narrowed her eyes in his direction. There was no ship in the entire galaxy that the two of them couldn't manage. “What do you mean?”

With a sigh, Poe motioned for Rey to follow him back out onto the shore where they walked along the sand until hitting a sharp turn that revealed a massive lagoon. It was while looking out at the water that Rey's mouth dropped, and a trickle of horror dripped into the pit of her stomach.

There was a ship, all right. Black and with ripped, hanging sails, it bobbed on the surface of the water with a few people on board. Rey knew then that Poe was right. Whatever this was, it wasn't something that she could pilot. It wasn't _really_ a ship at all but something entirely different. Something foreign. Something she couldn't even properly describe.

All that Rey knew was that this 'ship' was their only hope, and so she stepped down a rocky slope with her eyes fixed in one direction: toward the mysterious, black-clad ship of nightmares.

* * *

“First of all, Ren, that isn't a ship.”

Hux was furious. And sunburnt. Not a good combination for the general. And he had spent the better half of ten minutes trying to convince Kylo Ren that what they were seeing was indeed _not_ a ship and indeed _not_ something that they wanted to steal.

“You say that,” Ren grumbled, “but it's obviously used for transportation. Thus it's a ship.”

General Hux was nearly at his limit. “It is a floating chunk of wood. I don't even _know_ what to call it, but it certainly isn't going to deliver us to the Supreme Leader's planet.”

Kylo Ren kicked his bare foot into the sand a couple of times, not wanting to continue to argue with Hux but also not wanting to lose against the whiny bastard. He felt pretty damn miserable at the moment. His face was so bandaged that he could only see out of one eye; his right shoulder had been sliced so heavily that he could barely feel his hand; and every breath was catching against Chewie's blast that had damn near decimated his abdomen. And now here he was on some godforsaken island, only half clothed, with no water, and with an irate General Hux. At least he still had his lightsabre. Maybe he could slice his own throat if things got too bad.

“Okay, so maybe it's not a ship. But there are people on board; we could at least try to get a ride off this island,” Ren pleaded.

“I agree with Ren.” Phasma's voice came from behind them as she sat cross-legged on a rock, her silver helmet on her lap. “I would hate to wait for the next vessel to never come our way.”

Hux groaned as he tried to smack the sand from his dark-grey uniform. “And what is it that you propose? We ask those aboard if they happen to know where we are and how to finish our journey to Snoke's citadel? I'm absolutely _sure_ they will understand that. How are you even certain that they will speak our language? Or won't outright kill us upon asking?”

“We don't,” Ren replied. “But I'd like to hear you come up with a better plan.” Besides, Ren knew that Hux was merely being dramatic. Even in this injured state, he would still be fully capable of killing anyone on board who would dare to harm them.

Kylo Ren tried to stand but only managed to fall over on his side, much to the disgust of Hux who turned away to stomp angrily up and down the shore. Captain Phasma meandered over and helped Ren to his feet as they both looked out in the direction of the strange, wooden ship.

It was only as large as the average, personal carrier, but something told Phasma that this ship was considered quite large for this place. The woodwork was ornate, painted with gold in select areas, and upon the back were large letters that she couldn't quite make out. It may have been a different language. But she memorised what the letters looked like, making sure to ask for a translation later.

_HMS Victory_

Whatever that meant.

Phasma pulled a blaster from her belt and held it loosely in her hands for a moment. “Ready to send off a signal of distress?”

Ren rolled his eyes as he clutched his middle, wishing that he could have had at least _one_ day of rest from his injuries. “Fine. Just do it.”

Phasma nodded, and with a powerful blast, bright red plasma was shot into the sky.

* * *

Captain Thomas Heady of the _HMS Victory_ looked out onto the shore of the nearby island with complete certainty that he had seen a spark of red fire in his periphery. His lieutenant, Malcolm Diggory, had sworn that no such fire had existed. After all, how could one see fire on such a sunny day? But Heady was sure that he hadn't made it up.

A few seconds passed before Captain Heady saw the fire once again. It shot into the air, sparkling a brilliant red, before falling back down to earth. And just below the fire, he could see three dots against the sand. One dark, one shining like polished metal, and one a grey mass that appeared to be moving away from the other two. Those moving dots were undeniable proof that the fire was real. There were _people_ on that island! People who were in obvious need of assistance.

Heady scanned the surrounding area, looking for any sign of a ship wreck or small boat, but he saw nothing. Just the continuous fire and three people on the shore.

“Lieutenant Diggory,” Heady shouted as he handed the man a spyglass for a closer look. “I believe you owe me an apology. Ready a boat. You shall be in charge of their rescue.”

* * *

**A/N:** I'm not remotely sorry that this fic now exists.


End file.
